


A New Nightmare

by SamaelLowell



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21654115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamaelLowell/pseuds/SamaelLowell
Summary: Memories of a lost world circulate within the minds of the Enlightened. Their Gods are foolish, however. Nothing can change the will of the Great Ones, the immutable River of Fate that flows through the dreams of humanity. There is no hope here. There is only despair.Memories of a lost world flow through the veins of the Awakened. Their Heart is wise, however. Nothing can break the will of Humanity, the Ties that bind the spirits of those filled with love. There is no despair here. Only hope.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Kudos: 21





	A New Nightmare

_Following the end of the war that plagued Fódlan for six long years, the continent lays in shambles. Emperor Edelgard leads her people to relative peace, though it is short-lived. The Adrestian Empire finds itself under attack from Those Who Slither in the Dark, and after a year of weary, brutal conflict, Emperor Edelgard’s primary advisor, Byleth Eisner, takes her own life. Shortly after the death of Grandmaster Eisner, the Adrestian Empire falls to ruin, and the continent of Fódlan watches as its last chapter in history comes to an end._

**Well, now that was quite a mess, wouldn’t you say?** A cheery young voice rang out into the perpetual darkness, its tone only _slightly_ condescending. **Yes, it is a wonder you survived that ordeal. Or rather, you did not! How curious. But I heard your wishes, and we are here. Now, go! Fix your foolish mistakes, so that we may find a better ending to this sordid tale!**

When Byleth’s eyes finally fluttered open, she was flooded with a relatively unfamiliar feeling. Nostalgia? Yes, perhaps that is the sensation that caused her chest to ache just so. When she rose, she saw her room at Remire Village, and nearly wept tears of joy and sorrow. How strange, that she could use her newfound emotions so readily in a time where they never existed.

The door to her room opened and a gravely old voice called out, “Hey, time to wake… Oh, you’re up already. Though you don’t look well rested. Have you been having strange dreams again?”

Byleth nodded, her silent sobs racking her body. Jeralt… Her dad. He was alive.

“You died. Stabbed in the back. Everyone else… And… It was all my fault…”

Quickly, her dad – her _dad_ – wrapped his arms around her, and growled in a way only he could make sound comforting. Byleth knew her dad well, and she knew that sound was the sound of him cursing her nightmares. Or perhaps he was cursing his own weakness, his inability to slay the dreams himself.

“I died, huh? That’s a new one. The whole company too, right? Though, well, I thought I’d go out in a manlier way than some measly betrayal, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and the deep sound comforted her. How long had it been since she heard that laugh? “But… This is the first time I’ve ever seen you cry. And all because I died in some silly little dream. I’d hate to see what happened if I _really_ died.”

Byleth merely hugged him tighter, even though it felt like hugging a stone pillar. She could hardly breathe, yet the pain helped remind her that this was reality now.

**As it should be! Do you appreciate how much effort it took to do this? The Divine Pulse had its limits, and for you to so casually rend them at their core… I will not be able to accomplish such a feat again, you understand!**

Byleth sent her gratitude to her heart, and lost herself in the gentle warmth of family. But even if one could return to the beginning of time, it would still flow forever onward.

“Well, as much as I want to stay here comforting you like this, we do need to get moving soon. That job in the Kingdom… We’ll need to start now if we want to make it on time. There’s about an hour ‘til dawn. We’ll march then.” Byleth almost renewed her crying once Jeralt pulled away. Perhaps she feared he would dissipate into the pit of Fate. Still, once his hand finally lifted from her shoulder, she found herself overcome with relief upon seeing his form stay solid.

“Of course,” was the simple reply Jeralt got from his daughter. He might not have shown it on his face, but he was shaken to his core. Seeing his girl so full of emotion over a _bad dream_ of all things hurt his heart. He wasn’t joking when he said that it would be horrible to see her face if he did die. Not that she should know that.

“Everyone else is already getting prepared. Still, don’t rus-”

The door burst open and a man, Clemont, Byleth recognized, started shouting.

“Sorry to interrupt! We’ve got a situation!”

With little to no hesitation, the three ran from the room and found themselves face to face with a new, primarily-colored trio. A trio Byleth recognized quite well. Yellow, Blue, and Red. Her children, alive and well.

“Please forgive our intrusion. We would not bother you were the situation not dire. We have been pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope you would be so kind as to lend your support.”

That soft, polite manner of speaking could only belong to Dimitri. His blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin were all the indicators of a Blaiddyd. She remembered his tone, hi _s roar of agony as Aymr rent his arm from his body, his only good eye blinded by his own blood._

_“Damn you, Edelgard! Damn you, Professor! For the fallen… For everyone whose lives you have stolen! I will find vengeance! I WI_

“It’s true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp. Our professor has also run off somewhere… I fear he may have met his end at the hands of the bandits.”

A harsh, biting voice belonging only to Edelgard von Hresvelg. Amongst all her children, Byleth found Edelgard to be the most interesting. Still… she could not help but feel herself full of regret, looking at the future Emperor of Adrestia. She was the last one she saw, before she _reached for the blade at her side, a perfectly-kept dagger given to her by Hubert. She looked Edelgard right in the eyes as she lifted the blade to her own neck, the sharp edge poised to sever the arteries there. Just as_ he _had done._

 _“Professor… You surely cannot… No. I did this myself, did I not? That is what you, what_ all _of you have been saying, isn’t it? I apologize for just now seeing it. Someday, somehow, I hope I can atone for all that I have d_

“We’ve been separated from our allies, and we’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives, and probably our gold, too. Sorry to throw our mess on you like this, but…”

That lilt, that charming lilt… Claude von Riegan. He had been a great student under _him_ , and to see him now… Really, Claude had been the only one of her children to get _better_ over time, as _he knelt down next to the body of his wife, grief replacing any and all of the impassive suaveness he was known for. Hilda’s pink hair was beginning to blend with the red blood around her, and Byleth’s heart wrenched at the sight. Claude stood up and sighed, a world-weary look on his face that belied the storm underneath._

 _“You know, teach, I really did think you were salvageable._ He _said you were, and I believed him. Guess we were wrong, huh? You must feel real good, with this much blood on your hands, oh great_ Ashen Demon _. I hope it’s worth it, whatever_ it _is. And our goals were so similar too… Well, we’re past the point of regrets now, aren’t we? Time to keep on_

Jeralt’s voice rang out over the group, a hard tenor that soothed Byleth the more she heard of it. “I’m impressed you’re staying so calm considering the situation. Alright. Kid, let’s go take care of this little issue.”

The northern gate of Remire was guarded by a number of Jeralt’s men, though it appeared no conflict had made it that far. She heard the sounds of a skirmish farther down the path ahead, and Dimitri winced behind her.

“It seems that the fighting has already begun… I will assist you. It is the least I can do, after having led them here.”

Edelgard pulled an axe from its resting spot on her back and spun it in her hand a few times, testing its weight. “I believe we will _all_ be assisting you. That means you too, Claude.”

Said archer was already twirling an arrow between his fingers, his eyes locked forward while a smirk played at his lips. “Ah, darn. I really did think I could escape this. Oh well. I’m at your disposal, Mr. Blade Breaker.”

For his part, Jeralt merely snorted at the moniker, before he shook his head and mounted his horse. “Not this time. You’ll be following Byleth’s orders, if you know what’s good for you. I’m going up ahead. Don’t forget to use the nearby forest as cover, alright kid?” And like that, he was gone. A terrible anxiety welled up within Byleth, her worry for her father almost making her forget where she was. But, after a great battle with her own head, she walked forward, her children following behind her hesitantly.

“Byleth, was it? You are also a mercenary, correct? I will follow your orders. Show me what you can do.”

“Byleth, right? Sweet. Seriously didn’t expect to run into mercenaries in some remote village. Well, I’ll follow you this time, though I’ve got some schemes of my own up my sleeve.”

“Miss Byleth, thank you for your assistance. It would not do for us to fall in a place like this. That said, I will lend you my strength. Let us drive out these thieves!”

Her children… ah, this would be the only time she got to direct all three of them at once. And then she would have to choose… But that was for the future. Battle was upon them.

Byleth faced down a number of bandits on her own, dancing with his sword as though it were merely a part of her. It did not carry the same weight as the Sword of the Creator, but it would have to do. She gave short, concise orders to her children, the four of them taking a spearhead formation centered around Claude. These bandits were weak… such a simple strategy would work well against them.

Of course, with Edelgard at her left, and Dimitri at her right, there were no openings for any bandits to approach, and any they failed to strike down swiftly were finished off by Claude. The four of them worked in such tandem that it felt as though they had done this their whole lives. It was almost _perfect_.

Soon, the group reached the leader of the bandits, a man named Kostas. Byleth held up her arm to keep her children from approaching the more experienced opponent, before charging ahead to duel him on her own.

Kostas was stronger than the average ruffian, but he was still leagues behind a trained mercenary. With deft parries and dodge-rolls learned through what felt like a lifetime hunting Beasts, Byleth was untouchable. A fact the bandit took with great ire.

“Damn you, brat! Stand still so I can kill you!”

And without a moment’s hesitation, Byleth lopped his head off like it was nothing. This would solve the problem of meeting him again at Zanado, anyway.

The three nobles approached her and quickly surrounded her with gleaming eyes and promising faces. Edelgard, always the one to take the initial step, spoke first.

“Your skill with a blade… I have seen nothing quite like it! Please, I must ask you to consider lending your services to the Adrestian Empire. Your skills could put many of the best-known general there to shame, and I beli-”

“Hold, Edelgard,” Dimitri cut in, “allow me to also make my proposition. Please accompany me back to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. We are in dire need of such an exceptional warrior, and your noble actions today would surel-”

So interrupted Claude, “Woah there! You two sure are hasty, trying to recruit someone you just met. I had planned on forging an unbreakable bond over the course of a couple years before begging for favors. Buuuut, it seems there’s no time to waste in this world. So, Byleth, let’s get to it. Who would you side with?”

This damned question… This was the question that had ruined her life six years ago… To pick a side, and condemn the other two to misery…? How could she do such a thing so lightly, knowing what she knew? No. She would not choose, and that is what she declared.

“No. I will not choose.”

She saw a spark, then. At first she chalked it up to her words igniting some form of competitive spirit in the three, but then she noticed the faint look of recognition in the eyes of her children. Did they… know _why_ she said what she did?

Before she could wonder any more on that, Jeralt approached, leading a burlier man with an impossibly loud voice. A voice Byleth had at one point described as “hammy”. A voice that also brought back memories.

 _“You turned on the Church, killed your former allies, and now you stand here, ready to kill_ me _! Captain Jeralt must be turning in his grave! I won’t be able to keep my promise to him… so I’ll just have to kill you, and bury you with my own hands!”_

“And then, when I was least expecting it, Shamir turned to me and said ‘Your jokes… they’re terrible,’ and walked off! Ah, I miss the good old days, back when you would at least just _groan_ at them!”

Jeralt shook his head tiredly and rested his hand on his forehead.

“Your jokes _are_ terrible.”

Alois, Knight of Seiros… and the man Byleth proudly liked to call “Uncle”. He was a jovial sort, and his cheerful personality had lightened her mood quite a bit after Jeralt’s passing. As much as he hated Alois’s jokes, Jeralt had just as bad a sense of humor, sometimes, and hearing the Knight’s jokes reminded her of her dad’s admittedly better ones.

“Bah! What do you know? You’re as humorless as Seteth!”

“Never met him. Anyway, here’s the kids,” Jeralt said, waving his arms vaguely in the direction Byleth was standing. She turned her head to find the three nobles close behind.

“Ah, there you are! Well, worry not, for the Knights of Seiros have arrived!” After a brief pause, Alois looked around and started counting on his fingers. “Hold on a minute… there’s one more than was reported! Jeralt, is this one yours?”

“Yep. Her name’s Byleth. She’s my daughter.” He had a hint of pride in his voice as he said that, the same pride that was present _every_ time he introduced her to someone that way. She was his daughter, and they better not forget it.

“So she’s the one! I can only imagine how the daughter of the former Captain of the Knights of Seiros fights! Gah, I’m getting off track again. It’s about time to return to the Monastery! What do you think Jeralt? Want to come with? I’m sure things have changed in the 20 odd years you’ve been away.”

Jeralt let out another tired sigh, and rolled his neck before nodding. “Sure. Whatever. Would be better to not try and run from the Knights, at any rate.”

“Hah! Well then, let’s be off! Onward! To Garreg Mach!”

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps this story will continue. Perhaps it will not. Such is the whim of Fate.


End file.
